Core
by PwnedByPineapple
Summary: He seemed so human and so young, and yet he was not. At least, not in a way that any of them could understand. Pre-colonial and colonial!America. Prize fic.


**Title:** Core  
**Author:** PwnedByPineapple  
**Summary:** _He seemed so human and so young, and yet he was not. At least, not in a way that any of them could understand. Pre-colonial and colonial!America. Prize fic._  
**Notes:** Prize fic for Nakama95 on deviantART.

* * *

He seemed so human and so young, and yet he was not. At least, not in a way that any of that land's denizens, human or otherwise, could understand.

* * *

Those who saw the world through wild inhuman eyes saw a small human creature that did not smell human. A human-who-was-not, he appeared to be, and it would have sent all of them, even the fiercest, shying away for fear of the unknown, of potential danger. But he drew them in, against nature's reason; all of them, even the most gentle, pulled in by an impulse that overcame that most basic of instincts - survival.

They knew, somehow, that they had nothing to fear. He _was_ survival - at least, he was their land and their water and their sky, and he was _them_. They knew this intrinsically, more than they understood their own need to survive, and so they came.

Even the fierce predators gave way to him, their large forms and sharp teeth contrasting with his tiny size and seemingly fragile nature. He showed no fear in their presence, and they, in turn, did the same... and never felt a bloodlust stir in his company.

But it was the gentle ones that took to him. They were as small and delicate as he was, but more so, because there was something about him that was, at his core, indestructible. The little ones knew this, and yet they did not fear. They came to him when he approached and found themselves content and safe in his presence. Even the rabbits, the most timid, ventured to him and were held in his strange human arms. They heard the happy sounds he made and felt his fingers stroke their fur, and though it was an alien experience, it was, at the same time, utterly familiar - as if part of the earth itself enveloped them and kept them safe.

* * *

Even those who were human to the core, as much as he was _not_, could tell that there was something different about this boy.

A select few of them knew why. One such human, a man aging into his forties who went by the name of Joseph, had been tasked with care of the child and often found himself watching the boy with something approaching wonder. Alfred was a rambunctious little fellow with a penchant for wandering off, especially into the wild, whenever he got the chance. Mr. Kirkland had once told Joseph that he'd found Alfred in the wild and that most nation children were born there... though Joseph got the feeling that he didn't mean "born" in the most literal sense.

Joseph often dwelled on that. He was one of the few people trusted with the knowledge of "nations", and for some reason, he'd trusted that knowledge intrinsically from the moment it had been revealed to him. It helped that he'd once seen Mr. Kirkland take a stab wound with merely a wince and a disdainful glance... and it had been a blow that would have knocked a much bigger man to his knees. It also helped that Alfred grew very slowly. Why, the boy still looked to be a lad of eight or nine years, and it had been several since he'd come into Joseph's care.

Joseph dwelled on all of it much more than he cared to admit. He felt as if he stood on the verge of some great secret, bigger merely than the existence of human nations, and he could see it in Alfred. The boy's intelligence, his resistance to hurt and illness, his seemingly eternal youth, his uncanny ability to read people from the moment he came into contact with them... sometimes Joseph wondered if half the myths people had held over the years came from such beings. Certainly the larger populace would have been stunned and disbelieving, to know what Alfred really was.

As it was, Alfred left his mark on everyone he met.

Joseph could clearly see it, every time he and the boy went out. In the shopkeepers, who delighted in the boy's grasp of economy. In the children, who seemed to be drawn to him as if he had some magical fey-like pull. In the women whom Alfred liked to compliment, in the men who were impressed by the boy's adult-like conversation. It happened again and again, in every place they lived.

And those were quite a few places. Sooner or later, Alfred's apparently unchanging youth would have drawn suspicion, and it would have been cruel to keep him from interacting with his citizens, so he and Joseph were forced to move every few years. New faces and places were a delight to the boy, but sometimes Joseph wondered if it wasn't just as cruel to always be uprooting him. Alfred got attached to people quickly, and though he never said anything, Joseph could see just how much he often missed those he'd left behind.

And so Joseph did his best to keep the young nation happy... because Joseph, too, had quickly fallen for Alfred's company. The child drew everyone in, and Joseph was no exception... and he found that he'd do a lot to keep a smile on Alfred's face.


End file.
